


The Distance Between Planning and Thinking

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Going the Distance [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clones Lust for Obi-Wan, Exhibitionism, Kinky Obi-Wan, NO DEATH, No Sex, Other, Protective Obi-Wan, Referenced BDSM, Sexual Slavery Discussed, ace Cody, brief nudity, he knows, intense sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 08:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14209035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Anakin's plans for infiltrating the Zygerrian Slave Empire involve Ahsoka dressing in revealing pleasure slave attire and gifting her to the Queen of Zygerria.Obi-Wan is not having it. At all. He ends up doing something rather rash to make his point, dammit. It leaves 212th and 501st drooling.





	The Distance Between Planning and Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> Extra Warning: Somebody may hit somebody before it's through, but that is the extent of the violence in this story.

 

“ _No._ ”

Anakin looked at his Master in surprise. “ _No_ ? I thought you'd be pleased with this idea— sneaking around instead of going in lightsabers first.”

“Think of what could  _happen_ to her. You're talking about 'gifting' her to the Queen!”

“She's unmarred, Obi-Wan,  _no scars,_ and her clothing will say she's untouched. The Queen won't let anyone deflower her gift without her express say-so.”

Obi-Wan scowled. “Rather high faith to put in the Queen's staff and guards. This is your  _Padawan._ ”

“Well,  _I_ obviously can't do it, no one would believe it. We'd be caught in a heartbeat.”

“I'm not suggesting  _you_ do it. I will.”

Anakin paused, then actually  _looked_ at his former master. From the quiet, grim look in his eye, he had to know Anakin was tallying up his monetary value, and then Anakin shook his head. “The Queen would take it as an insult.”

A scowl pulled down Cody's brow.

“You're almost forty, you're covered in scars, and you couldn't look sensual to save your life.”  
Rex's eyebrows shot up, Cody almost snarled aloud, and Obi-Wan simply gave Anakin a flat look. “It's me, or we change the plan. Ahsoka is  _not_ doing this.”

“She's not your Padawan, and she already agreed.”

A flicker of hurt flashed across Obi-Wan's Force signature, not making it to his face before shields closed over it. “Don't make me pull rank, Anakin.”

“ _Fine,_ ” Anakin snapped. “You have an hour to prove you can make this work, or I scrap this perfectly  _good plan,_ and come up with a new one.” He glowered for a second at them all, then stormed off the bridge.

Was Obi-Wan  _trying_ to make this mission even  _more_ difficult for Anakin than it was already going to be—?

 

* * *

 

“Rex?”  
The trooper felt a sinking feeling.  _Don't rise to his bait. Please, General._

“Would you be willing to assist me in making Anakin's deadline?”  
“Yes, General,” Rex murmured, hoping to hell he wouldn't regret this decision later.

_Who am I kidding? I definitely will._

 

* * *

 

Rex watched as the Jedi bustled around his quarters, dragging the robes he'd nearly destroyed the other day out of the trash and handing them to Rex. “The tabards. Can you cut two strips about this long and yea wide?” he gestured with his hands.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.”

As Rex searched the fabric for a place to cut, Kenobi disassembled his belt and threw the thinner band on the bed.

“I'm going to take a shower,” the Jedi announced, a competitive and not particularly friendly glitter in his eye. “When I'm done I'll need the strips and belt on the counter, please.”

_I have such a bad feeling about this._

 

* * *

 

Approaching forty and with a worthless body?

Fripping Anakin Skywalker.

Qui-Gon would be laughing at his former Padawan right now, but Obi-Wan had had  _enough._

This boy had been mocking him from teenagerhood on, trying to force Obi-Wan into an older category of being than he  _was._ And he was  _done._

He cleaned deep, the ritual familiar and threatening to be cathartic.

He refused to let it be.

He felt seriously skeeved off, and he wanted to wipe that self-satisfied grimace  _off_ his former Padawan's face.

Anakin might end up scarred for life and beg everyone to never mention it again, but he was going to  _know_ Obi-Wan Kenobi was not  _off the damn market._ Just because a  _war_ was taking up most of his time—

Obi-Wan found the required items on the counter after toweling off.

_You think I don't know my physical worth? I know my assets. My mouth, my young face, and my ass. And I'm not hung shabby either._

Scarred. For. Life.

Obi-Wan felt no remorse when he shaved off the beard. Even if he didn't play  _this_ role in the mission, altering his appearance would help. Force knew Anakin would simply put on another change of clothes and think that was good enough, signature hair and all.

_How did I raise an idiot? Oh, Qui-Gon._

He groomed a bit more, then settled the belt around his middle and drew the strips of cloth through, securing them in place to hang. He turned in the mirror, made sure enough of his thigh and ass remained visible, and stomped into the bedroom.

An injured  _meep_ escaped Rex as the man caught sight of him, and then the clone stared pointedly at the wall.

“I brought you because I thought you might be a bit less damaged by all this than Cody,” Obi-Wan grumbled. “I'm going to need you for the presentation for Anakin.”

“S—Sir?” the captain gulped.

Obi-Wan huffed out a grunt as he unlocked the box at the foot of his bed.  _Hah._ The items felt like old friends in his hands.  _I missed you._ Duty always came first, but sometimes it meant Obi-Wan  _didn't._

Unfortunate.

After the war he would make a month-long trip to Zeltros and just spend the  _entire damn time—_

“Close this, please,” Obi-Wan said, turning his back to the slightly-taller Rex.

The man took in a ragged breath, and then shaking fingers latched the well-worn black leather collar around Obi-Wan's throat.

Qui-Gon had gotten it for him, as part of an undercover mission.

Obi-Wan had fished it out of the trash afterwards and squirreled it away. Qui-Gon always pretended he hadn't noticed... though some pamphlets about safe BDSM had ended up mysteriously on Obi-Wan's bed at one point.

How he loved and missed that man.

Obi-Wan handed Rex a leash not yet connected to the collar. “We're going to walk back to the bridge, I'll be two steps behind you, you will hold the leash.”

“Connected to— the collar, Sir?” Rex's voice sounded strained.

Obi-Wan gave a nod. “If you can tolerate it.”

“Ah.”

“You will find Anakin and stand still, while I kneel beside you. He will likely do or say something unexpected. It would be a very great favor to me if you would yank the lead so I can demonstrate to him I can fripping  _react._ ”  _Yes, I know you're not supposed to yank on throats. But the mission won't be safe._

And he was skeeved. So frip safety.

Rex shifted on his feet, and Obi-Wan, once again in the refresher, glanced at him through the mirror as he pulled the lid off the pencil.

Obi-Wan took his attention from the clone so he could apply a thick line of black around his eyelashes. “It's the role of a slaver that Anakin has laid out for you in the plan. It would be uncomfortable. We need to know ahead of time if we need to ask another brother. Permission to speak freely is granted.”

“Sir. I— I do not know if I can run this mission.”

“Anakin was going to have you hold Ahsoka's leash. If you can't hold mine, do you think—”

Obi-Wan could sense outrage from the man behind him.

_Yes. I thought so. None of you really realized what Anakin meant by 'dressing' her 'up.'_

Obi-Wan didn't doubt Ahsoka's courage or dedication, but she was  _sixteen,_ and no matter how mature their Padawan—  _their_ Padawan, Anakin— might be, she hadn't come face-to-face with slavery, let alone  _this sort._

Anakin might think he was the resident slavery expert on this ship, and Obi-Wan would never deny that terrible things had been done to him.

_But I remember._

Days when a collar that  _didn't_ conform well to his throat chafed. A cage where a crowd catcalled. A man with raven hair who petted his cheek to infuriate their master. A time, when, to save their lives, Qui-Gon had stuck his fingers in Obi-Wan's mouth and demanded he suck them.

He'd been older than Ahsoka at that point.

Still hadn't realized what it would mean to his spirit until he had no choice in the matter.

And Force frip a Sith, but he would not be party to Ahsoka walking into that, even  _if_ she thought herself ready.

“Shall I call another vod to help me demonstrate for Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, voice a bit softer this time.  _Rex hasn't done anything wrong. No need to take it out on him._

But the Captain's reply of, “Not necessary. Sir!” came just a little too fast, and Obi-Wan sensed something...

_Ah._

Well, the point hadn't been to make his Captain uncomfortable  _that_ way, though now Rex's reaction in the bridge made a bit more sense.

_Dream fodder for you, then, Dear Captain._

“Just be sure you yank the lead hard, Captain, or I won't be able to accomplish what I want to.” Obi-Wan brushed the fabric aside and settled the ring around the base of his cock, checking to make sure all was well.

Oh, yes. It had been a while.

He hadn't realized how much he had missed the familiar grip and weight, and felt his mind edging towards subspace.

Obi-Wan let the fabric swish back over to cover, knowing the glint of the ring would catch the eye as he walked.

He turned back around to find Rex staring resolutely at the floor.

_Oh, Captain,_ Obi-Wan's mind cooed. So clearly unused to the casual nudity Obi-Wan was familiar with from the Dungeons he visited when he had the chance.

“Now I need help for one last thing.” And Obi-Wan did feel slightly sorry for this one.

The glimmer dust Obi-Wan could apply to the scars on his arms and chest and throat, but Rex had to gently trace the scars on his back.

Obi-Wan ruffled his hair, pinched his lips and rolled his fist against them, checked the chrono, gave a nod, and handed the lead to Rex.

It took the man a moment to pull out of the near-reverent headspace the clone had entered while tracing Obi-Wan's scars, but then Rex held his head up.

“Remember,” Obi-Wan coached, “arrogant bastard. No, you know what? Channel Anakin. I'm a Jedi-killing Hutt who is a coward.”

At the look of sheer revulsion that crossed Rex's face a the mental image, Obi-Wan smiled. “There. That. Capture that. You want to be rid of me as soon as possible, but only after one last frip.”

Rex turned bright pink around the ears and took a hasty step forward if only to try to conceal his horribly aroused state.

Obi-Wan made a wry face as he followed him into the hall, two steps behind. His sex-repulsed, asexual Commander would have an aneurysm. Obi-Wan knew Cody was in love with Obi-Wan, and now  _Rex_ needed to run off for some alone time in the fresher.

He had to wonder how long it would take Anakin to notice and how traumatized his former Padawan would be when it happened.

Obi-Wan shed the skin of a Jedi and military officer, adopting the gait of a hedonist, with just a little touch of spice addict thrown in for good measure. He let his gaze wander, and a slightly debauched smile take charge of his face.

He heard something clatter to the floor behind them as it was dropped.

The Force pulled taught around them and then twanged as more clones caught sight of the pair walking down the hall.

Obi-Wan spotted Waxer staring at his ass, jaw open and datapad clutched tight in his hands. Boil reached over and closed his brother's mouth.

Obi-Wan didn't hide the satisfaction the attention gave him.

He'd always been just a  _hint_ of an exhibitionist. Force knew it had traumatized Qui-Gon quite terribly until he finally realized he was going to have to manage to live anyway, and grew immune.

_See me._

Oh, they  _saw_ him.

Pretty much  _all_ of him.

 

* * *

 

_Three more minutes. Is he seriously going to glide in here a second from the chime of the hour just because he_ can _?_ Anakin scowled out at the stars, annoyed to pieces.

He already hated this mission. He'd formed the plan to make it so they would have to spend as little time lurking around Zygerria as possible.

But Obi-Wan? Pose as a pleasure slave?

Anakin scoffed a laugh. Naive Jedi.

The bridge door slid open and footsteps came through. Anakin checked his chrono.  _Not quite on the dot. Close enough._

Anakin felt a couple of the clones' brains stutter, the quiet hum of their Force presences short-circuiting before racing forward in a very unusual pattern.

Anakin rolled his eyes and turned to look.  _Great. What's he done to himsel—_

The thought died. It didn't end, it  _fripping died._

Obi-Wan, gaze downcast, lips parted, sank to his knees, the movement agonizingly slow. No sooner had he reached the floor, then Rex yanked at the lead, jerking Obi-Wan's head to the side.

The man submitted to the reprimand, a slight breath escaping him, eyes half-hooded, and not with anger. He let his cheek rest against Rex's thigh on the way back, almost nuzzling before his posture returned to its kneeling, staring at the floor state.

For painful heartbeats, Anakin felt absolutely nothing at all.

And then he felt  _rage._

 

* * *

 

“ _Get up_ !” General Skywalker roared, storming towards them.

The bridge crew pretended to be busy with  _anything,_ but couldn't drag their attention away.

Rex felt his gut sink. Yep. Just as bad as he'd feared.

Obi-Wan obeyed, chin still lowered.

“The  _frip_ do you think you're doing?” Skywalker yelled in his face.

Kenobi didn't lose his meek posture. Or his silence.

“ _Answer me_ !”

“Do I please, Master?” Kenobi asked, but it wasn't a voice  _Rex_ had ever heard before. Husky, aroused—

A whimper escaped  _someone_ on the bridge. Everyone else held their breaths. Rex stared straight ahead, so  _very_ uncomfortable, and that tone was so sultry, and the way he pronounced the word  _master,_ drawing attention to his lips—

Rex was going to have trouble sleeping. Maybe for the rest of his life.

He wasn't sure this agony was worth it.

But the expressions on faces as they'd journeyed to the bridge hadn't been outrage. There had been confusion, sure, but  _jealousy_ had been foremost.

Rex had been  _this close_ to  _not_ being the one smoothing the scars on Kenobi's back.

_…Worth it._

And then Skywalker backhanded Kenobi.

That drew audible gasps, and Rex wasn't sure, but suspected he might have contributed.

Kenobi stumbled against Rex, then crashed to his knees.

But not a flicker of outrage broke his mask.

_No. I will not be able to run this mission._

Seeing the horrified look on Cody's face...

_And neither will Cody._

Skywalker's hand was metal, though Rex suspected his General had forgotten it for the moment. He'd struck Kenobi in a place where hair would hide the bruise, not the face, oh, not the face.

And Rex was not at all comfortable with the as-yet-unseen side of his General.

Horror flooded Skywalker's face, and he looked up at Rex's eyes with wide ones of his own.

_I'm not sure you should go on this mission either, Sir._

Warm wet toyed with Rex's fingers, making his eyes bug and his armor  _way too tight._ He snapped his gaze down to find Kenobi fellating his hand. Rex tried to swallow, found he couldn't. Not when those black-ringed eyes looked knowingly into his for the briefest flash before falling away.

“Stop,” Skywalker choked out. “Force  _damn it,_ Obi-Wan,  _stop_ !”

And Kenobi did, head lowered.

Then he stood, stepped into Skywalker's space, looked him right in the eye, and asked, “How about  _now_ ? Reassign a price to me  _now._ ” Then he held out his arms, taking the lead from Rex, and  _turned around,_ and the fabric swayed, revealing glimpses, and why did one of their Generals have to look quite so—?

It had to be punishment. He'd done something wrong, back on Kamino without knowing it, and they had assigned him this way to torture him. Had to be it.

“I didn't— I don't— you—” Skywalker's face crumpled and he pressed his palms to his eyes.

And  _that_ was the cue that started filing everybody out of the bridge as quickly and silently as they could manage it, Rex included.

As he turned to shut the door behind him, he saw Skywalker crumpled in Kenobi's arms, sobbing out, “I didn't think— I wasn't thinking—  _Ahsoka—_ ”

And Kenobi soothed his hair with a hand, murmuring in Skywalker's ear, his own near-nakedness not mattering to him, because his Padawan was in trouble.

 


End file.
